


Elocution

by Shaddyr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Challenges, Community: firewhiskeyfic, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-31 20:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: End of the year bonfire night at Hogwarts. Firewhiskey is flowing freely, Ginny is nosy, Harry is rambling and Malfoy just wants to help...





	Elocution

**Author's Note:**

> This was my second time playing at Firewhiskeyfic. OMG! It's SUCH a GOOD TIME YOU GUYS! Everyone should play along!
> 
> I have cleaned this up and edited it to make it more coherent. Because yeah, you can pretty much follow the progression of my drinking by the incidence of typos in the original. If, however, you would actually like to read the drunken version, complete with typos and inconsistencies, you can [find it here](https://firewhiskeyfic.dreamwidth.org/13177.html).

"A penny for them?"

Harry looked up from the glass dangling between his fingers to find Ginny grinning down at him. Despite his foul mood, he could not help but smile back.

"I'm afraid you'd be getting the short end of the deal," he said as she settled down on the grass beside him. 

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching their friends as they laughed, talked and danced in the firelight.

"So," she said presently, without looking at him, "Still waiting."

He shook his head, taking another long swallow of his drink. “Nothing on my mind really,” he hedged. “Just enjoying the last bonfire of the year and celebrating the fact we all survived our NEWTs,” he said, lifting his glass as if in toast.

She pursed her lips as she glanced over, absently swirling the drink in her cup around as she studied him. “Sure, I entirely believe you’re out here, celebrating with your mates. Sitting far enough away from the fire I could barely notice you, behind everyone else.” She pointed her glass at him. “I believe you, absolutely. Tell me another one.”

He made a face. "Gin," he said, shaking his head, "What do you want me to say?"

She shrugged. "What I'd like to hear is that you're thinking about your grand future plans and you've fallen madly in love with someone new.” Ginny gave him a sweet, but slightly mischievous smile. “But I'll settle for hearing that you’re not entirely miserable and that, just maybe, you're willing to admit that you fancy someone."

Trust Ginny to cheer him up when he was brooding, whether he liked it or not. “I’m not miserable, honestly!” he said, unable to hold back the smile as he rolled his eyes. "And there’s no one I fancy. Just because you and Dean are soppily and disgustingly in love-" 

Ginny let out a laugh and smacked Harry's arm. He tried to doge her, but ended up splashing firewhiskey over the lip of his glass, down the front of his shirt and over his hand.

"Hey, now!" he admonished her, licking the whiskey dripping over the ball of his thumb. "That's alcohol abuse!" 

She just snorted and took a sip of her own drink as he brushed his hand over his shirt to flick off the droplets of firewhiskey. He tossed back the last mouthful and frowned at his now empty glass. And yes, he'd already had three, but it was the last big party of the year, and he really was grateful he’d somehow managed to survive his NEWTs, and he really HAD planned to cut loose with his friends – before Ron and Hermione had snuck off somewhere to snog, and he’d spotted Ginny sitting so cozily with Dean, and Neville and Hanna had been making eyes at one another, and yeah, ok, maybe he was a just a little miserable, and he absolutely wanted another one.

He looked over to where he’d dropped his rucksack – somewhere in a huge pile with everyone else’s bags and cloaks and whatnot – which was also where his bottle of firewhiskey was, safely ensconced within. The thought of making his way through the crowd of people to find it was daunting. He turned his gaze back to Ginny. 

“I’m out of firewhiskey,” he informed her.

“You are,” she agreed with a nod.

"You" he said imperiously, waving the glass at her, "owe me a drink."

He scowled when she laughed merrily at him. "Not my fault you managed to spill half of it down the front of you," she quipped.

He looked at her mournfully. “My whiskey is over there.”

“So why don’t you summon it then?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Pretty sure summoning a bottle of firewhiskey when I’ve been drinking is a bad idea.”

There was a pause and then they both broke into giggles. “Oh my god, I though mum was going to kill George for that!” she said, bent over laughing. Harry clearly remembered George summoning a bottle of wine at the burrow after he’d had a few too many glasses. Molly had not been pleased with the resultant mess when it crashed into the wall after beaning George in the head.

“Alright then,” she said, but her calculating expression made Harry a bit nervous. "If you tell me who you fancy, I'll go get you a drink."

Harry let out a groan and let himself fall back on the grass, arms splayed out beside him. "I don't... there isn't..." 

She stretched out beside him, propped up on one elbow and looked at him inquisitively. "Don't? Isn’t?" She tsked. "You are ever so eloquent, Harry."

"Ugh," he grumbled, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes. "You sound like Malfoy!"

"Oh, really?” she said, drawing out the word. “How _interesting_." She chuckled. "In what way, exactly, is that?"

He groaned again. "With his poncy vocabulary and his perfect diction and his oh, so elegant features and his pointy eyebrow, always making some comment about my bad hair or my poor taste in clothing or how I stumble over my words-" Harry uncovered his face long enough to crane his head up and glare over at her. "-which only seems to happen, by the way, when I have to deal with the poncy git, because he just makes me feel so... and then, sometimes, I just get _so_ worked up, and he does it on purpose Gin! That pointy git _knows_ exactly what to say to get me steamed up, and when he does, I'd really like to just..."

He flopped back on the ground, and let out an exasperated huff, settling his hand over his eyes again. He was at a bit pf a loss, not really sure how to convey what he'd like to do to Malfoy.

"Snog him senseless?" Ginny suggested serenely.

"Yes!" After a moment Harry's brain caught up with his mouth and his head shot up again. "Wait, what? No!"

"Oh, yes, I think that was a good answer."

"Ginny," he asked, slightly breathless and feeling more than a little derailed by the unexpected direction the conversation had gone. "Why on earth do you think I’d want to snog Malfoy? He’s a git!"

“That is an _excellent_ question,” came a dry, and very familiar voice from somewhere behind him. Harry dropped flat on the grass and tilted his head back to look. Of course. There was Malfoy, standing not three feet away.

"Fuck me," he whimpered plaintively as Ginny collapsed into giggles beside him on the grass.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Potter, considering we've not even discussed the snogging portion of this proposition yet, but it is a salient point for consideration."

Harry rolled onto his side. "See what I mean?" he demanded, poking Ginny, which made her roll up into a helpless ball of laughter. "It's those poncy words and that tone of voice, and it makes me crazy, Gin!"

"Potter," Malfoy's cultured voice was suddenly much closer than it had been. Harry flopped back again only to find Malfoy had suddenly appeared, sitting cross legged on the ground right beside him. "Am I to infer from your insipid ramblings that the mere sound of my voice and my superb elocution is enough to drive you beyond the limits of sanity?"

Harry blinked at him several times, tying to parse out what he said before giving up. "Being around you is enough to drive me crazy, Malfoy. Always has been."

Malfoy nodded, looking thoughtfully at Ginny. “Perhaps the she Weasly is correct in this case, Potter."

Harry peered at him owlishly. "What are you on about, Malfoy?'

"Snogging, of course," Malfoy said, as if it were the most obvious this in the word.

Harry felt his heart beating double time in his chest. “What?! You want to snog me?"

"No, Potter," Malfoy replied in the poncy, annoying condescending and quintessentially Malfoy way. “ _You_ want to snog _me_ , of course. I’m merely willing to participate, for good of the cause and all."

"The… cause?" Harry managed faintly as Malfoy shifted to lean over him, the moonlight catching in his hair, like halo around him. 

"Quite right," Malfoy murmured, lips hovering just over Harry’s. “I’ve changed you know," he said, and Harry could taste the honey mead he’d been drinking as Malfoy’s lips brushed over his own. "I'm happy to further the cause of right these days, and this seems like a good place to start."

And with that, Harry's world dissolved into hot/smooth/wet as Malfoy’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Harry’s hands came up, and fully intended to push him away, but found them instead wrapped around Malfoy, pulling him down flush against him. Malfoy gasped into his mouth, but never broke the kiss, bringing one hand up to wind in Harry’s wild hair while the other trailed down his side. He let it slip around Harry’s hip, fingers digging into his backside, eliciting a squeak of surprise, but the sound just served to spur Malfoy on, ratcheting up the heat between them.

"On that note, I think it's time for me to find Dean,” came Ginny’s voice from beside him, but Harry could barely spare a though for her over the overwhelming presence of Draco all around him.

Malfoy pulled away for a moment, leaving Harry panting and disoriented.

"Wha... why'd you stop?" he was horrified to hear himself say, and felt his cheeks colour at Malfoy's smirk. 

Malfoy looked up at Ginny. "Would you be a dear and cast a disillusionment around us? Thanks ever so."

Before Harry had a chance to say a word, Malfoy's mouth was back on his. Malfoy slid his hand down Harry’s backside and under his thigh to pull his leg around him. The sudden shock of that intimate contact sent a cascade of desire crashing through Harry, pulling a needy moan that he was unable to stop.

He thought he heard Ron's voice as the heat of Malfoy grinding against him drove everything from his mind.

"Gin? You seen Harry?"

"Oh, he’s a little busy right now, Ron.”

"Wait, isn’t that him... who’s that?”

“You should really go, you can talk to him later – RON! STOP!”

Oh, Merlin, is that Malfoy? What the fuck, Gin? Oh, I'm going to be sick!"


End file.
